


How to attract a poet

by EmolyAndSassuet



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, Les Misérables-Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmolyAndSassuet/pseuds/EmolyAndSassuet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fanfiction is written by Saskia.<br/>I'm already sorry for the quite short chapters but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is written by Saskia.  
> I'm already sorry for the quite short chapters but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless!

„Why would he like you? You only just met. And he flirts with everyone. Every girl to be specific. You can’t be so stupid!”

The voice in Jehan’s head was loud. Loud and annoying and with a mocking tone in it. Too loud.  
The boy couldn’t understand anymore what the professor in front of him was saying.  
“Shut up! I know that”, he replied angrily and only when some of the students around him gave him weird looks, he realized that he said that out loud. The professor looked up to see where the voice came from but then shrugged and continued his lecture. Jehan’s cheeks were now coloured in deep pink and he kept staring at the back of Courfeyrac’s head.  
  
Absentmindedly he began to scribble on his paper. Even when scribbling, his handwriting looked clear and romantically ornate. Now a soft smile appeared again on the poet’s lips. His usual smile. The smile, that spoke from happiness and the peace, which he found in the words on the paper before him.  
The professor started to talk about another subject now but Jehan wasn’t listening.  
He remembered his first day at the university, which had been only a week ago. The day he had met Courfeyrac.  
  


  
_Jehan was lost. There were just too many rooms, too many people and too many things he had to carry with him._   
_Still he tried to stay optimistic that he sooner or later just had to find the auditorium, where the welcome should take place, and so the smile never faded from his rosy lips._

_“Hey gorgeous”, he suddenly heard a charming voice next to his ear. The poet turned around and looked into the dark eyes of a quite handsome boy._   
_“Um,…hi”, he replied totally startled and his delicate face flushed furiously. The other stared at him._   
_“Oh wow, that wasn’t what I expected”, he observed obviously puzzled but still charmingly smiling, “I thought you were a-…”_   
_“I know”, Jehan interrupted him, once he regained his voice. “You’re not the first person mistaking me for a girl. It must be the flowers but, oh well, that’s just me.” He smiled softly at the boy before him, who responded with a crooked grin. “_   
_What a pity”, he commented, “because you really look gorgeous.” And then he winked at Jehan and turned to leave._   
  
_“Wait!”, the poet awoke from his stiffness and grabbed the other’s arm, whereupon the boy turned around and raised a questioning eyebrow without losing the smile on his lips. “Where do I find the great auditorium?”, Jehan asked shyly and that caused the other boy to chuckle._   
_“Oh, you mean that one right in front of you? Just through that door”, he advised and pointed at an entrance. Jehan giggled._   
_“Whoops. Okay, merci.”_   
_And then the other left to talk to a group of girls, who had been staring and whispering the whole time, and Jehan entered the hall._   
_Only when he sat down on his chair, he realized that he didn’t know the boy’s name._


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courfeyrac buys flowers for some girl and Jehan remembers his second day at university.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'll try to write more frequently but I can't guarantee anything, because university life keeps me quite busy. Pardon!

The sun shone through the window of the flower shop.   
Jehan was standing behind the counter and his hands were fleetly working on a bunch of flowers, forming an impressive formation out of the marguerites and tulips. In the middle of his creation he carefully put a lonely pink rose, which gave it a somewhat fairytale-like touch.  
The whole time while doing this, Jehan was humming a soft melody and a happy smile was spread across his delicate face.   
The poet loved his work in the flower shop and so, all the people, who came in and bought flowers, left the shop with a much happier face than before. Just because of Jehan’s constant good mood and the little chats he held with every customer.   
Even when he didn’t have to work, he sometimes came here, only to spend some time in the little shop with the light green walls. This vivid colour and the amount of different flowers created a feeling of pure nature inside of the room, which the boy enjoyed.   
At these times, when he didn’t have to work, he often spend hours sitting in a chair in a corner of the room with his journal placed on his knees and a pen in his hand. Or, mostly when he suffered from a writer’s block, he made tea for his colleagues, their customers and himself. When that happened, they mostly had a little break and started talking about this and that.   
In the end is to say: Jehan was the heart and the soul of the shop and without him it would have seemed empty.   
Despite the coloured walls.   
  
“Bonjour chéri”, the boy heard a voice and lifted his head, which was again adorned with a lot of flowers. A light blush appeared on his cheeks, when he looked into the other’s warm brown eyes. He cleared his throat but his voice was still quiet.   
“Salut Courfeyrac”, he smiled. “How can I help you?”   
The charming young man grinned.   
“What kind of flowers would you give a girl for her birthday?”, he winked, now casually leaning against the counter and watching Jehan working on the bouquet. The poet looked down, pretending to concentrate on the flowers, even though he knew he would be able to finish the creation in his sleep. He just didn’t want the other to see the disappointment in his eyes.   
After a while of thinking and when he was sure Courfeyrac wouldn’t read his face like an open book, Jehan looked up once again.   
“I’d go with an orchid. It means passion and admiration and sometimes…love”, he suggested and pointed at a beautiful flower in one of the pots next to the door. “Maybe we could combine it with a bit of fern.”   
He quickly reached for a few plants, putting the bouquet he was working on aside, and in a few minutes he held a bunch of flowers in his hands which looked entirely beautiful. Again he looked at Courfeyrac, this time with a question visible on his face.   
“Or you just give her a sunflower. They are lovely and they spread happiness and actually I think they appeal to girls. Many women come here and buy sunflowers”, Jehan explained in an excited voice, that made the other man chuckle.   
“You are really interested in all this, aren’t you?”, he asked, visibly amused.   
Jehan nodded. Courfeyrac smiled.   
“I think she’ll like this one”, he said and pointed at the orchid creation. “Merci for your help. I really owe you, Jehan.”   
And the poet, who was surprised that the other knew his name, could only smile.   
When the dark-haired boy left, Jehan was still staring.

 

_“Eww”, a boy, called Joly, just commented on the food in the canteen and set his fork down. “I bet they don’t really care for hygiene.”_   
_He shivered and the man next to him patted his back reassuringly._   
_“Just remember, if someone’s noodles are inedible, it will be mine”, he joked but the other didn’t find that funny at all._   
_“Then please don’t eat it. I’m worrying about you, Bossuet”, he sighed. Bossuet smiled softly at his friend._

_Jehan had watched them for a while and every second he got happier to have met such lovely people. It was his second day and he was surprised how easy he made friends at university._   
_On the bus had already met a ginger, whose name was Feuilly and who had a thing for making fans. Jehan had opened his heart for him only a few minutes after they had met. He believed he had never known such a lovely person before. Unfortunately the boy wasn’t studying at university so when Jehan arrived, he had been alone again._   
_Luckily after his first course he went to the library, where he had met the duo now sitting across from him._   
_He gave them both a bright smile. They returned it._   
_And then Jehan’s attention was caught by something else._   
_Or rather someone else._   
_The boy from the auditorium had just arrived at the canteen, joking around with some friends. When Jehan gave the scene a closer look, it seemed like he was the only one joking, though._   
_When the boy looked into their direction, he suddenly smiled a bit more and waved._   
_Jehan was already about to raise a hand to wave back, when he heard Bossuet’s “Salut Courfeyrac!” and knew that the waving hadn’t been directed at him. Slightly disappointed he lowered his hand and began to eat his food, trying to act as if nothing had happened._   
_At least he now knew the boy’s name, even though he would probably never use it. It didn’t sound like a first name but he slowly got used to this last name thing everyone seemed to be into._   
_And besides the name sounded beautiful._   
_Courfeyrac._


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan gets a flat mate and remembers his third day at university

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say 'Merci' to Emily, who skims all the chapters and helps me to correct my mistakes! Thank you, Emoly ;-)   
> <3

The doorbell rang and Jehan immediately jumped up from his bed with a happy smile and with joy sparkling in his eyes.  
The poet skipped to the door, rather than walking, and opened it.

Seeing the man with the dark messy curls standing in front of him, made Jehan’s smile grow even wider and he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist.  
The man chuckled and returned the hug.  
“Wow, you really missed me, didn’t you?”, he asked in his dark and now obviously amused voice. The poet nodded.  
“Of course! How could I not miss you?”, he replied and grabbed the other’s hand to pull him into one of the rooms.  
The man had barely time to close the door behind him.

“Voilá! This is your room. I’m so excited. I’ve never had a flat mate and now you are back and we’ll live in a flat share! It will be so great!”, the words bubbled out of his mouth and Jehan giggled. “But why am I even telling you this? You know that already. I’m sorry. The last two weeks were just so confusing. We’ll talk about that later but first I have to show you something.”  
The poet left the room and the dark-haired boy watched him go with a wide grin on his face.

After only a few minutes Jehan returned.  
Or at least he tried to.  
The quite delicate boy had almost completely disappeared behind a huge painter’s easel. When he had finally managed to carry it through the door frame and inside the room, he looked proudly up at the other.  
“I found it on the flea market. What do you say?”, he asked, almost leaping for joy.  
Grantaire’s jaw dropped.  
“Jehan, wow, that’s so cool!”, he finally said and smiled. “Merci! But Jehan, mon petite, you know you don’t have to do this for me, don’t you? You never had to. And still you always do.”  
Grantaire thoughtfully observed his friend’s face. Jehan returned the look smiling.

They had known each other for 2 years now, after meeting on a birthday party of some girl, where Jehan had because of his job at the flower shop been responsible for the decoration. Soon after their meeting they had discovered feelings for each other but their relationship didn’t last very long. They both realized after only a month that what they felt was sheer friendship. Platonic love. No more and no less.  
Retrospectively, that was the best thing that could happen because now there were closer than ever before. And that made Jehan happy.

“De rien”, the flowery boy replied and sat on Grantaire’s bed. “Oui,I know. I’m just so glad that you’re here. The life at university is so exciting and…I met someone.”  
The poet blushed. Grantaire grinned.

 

_It was Wednesday.  
Jehan opened the door of le Café Musain, which was rather a bar at night than a café. Inside, there were many people. The whole room was filled with his fellow students, who were laughing and drinking and talking in loud voices. _

_After a short while he spotted Joly, who sat next to Bossuet and was talking to a pretty dark-haired girl holding a tray. Jehan smiled and walked over to them. And then he suddenly stopped._  
 _Bossuet was talking to Courfeyrac._  
 _Just in that moment when Jehan decided to leave again before anyone could notice him, someone tapped his shoulder._  
 _It was Feuilly. The ginger smiled friendly at him._

_Five minutes later Jehan found himself sitting between Feuilly and the girl, whose name was Musichetta and who apparently was interested in either Joly or Bossuet. It was a somewhat surprising situation for Jehan since neither Joly nor Bossuet seemed jealous of the other, even though Musichetta was apparently flirting with both of them. Instead they just now and then gave each other a meaningful smile._

_“Hey, I know you!”, the poet suddenly heard someone say. The speaker’s grin was so bright; it was audible in his voice. Well knowing, who had addressed him, Jehan nodded and smiled shyly, cheeks slowly heating up._  
 _"Oui, we met at the first day. Before the auditorium”, he replied before the other would notice his insecurity. Courfeyrac chuckled._  
 _“Oh right! I mistook you for a girl with all the flowers”, the charming man grinned. “Sorry for that.”_  
 _That comment caused guffaw within the group and Jehan blushed even more. Joly reassuringly patted his back._  
 _“Don’t take them too seriously”, he advised and Jehan nodded._  
 _He didn’t feel like they were laughing at him in particular and of course he wouldn’t get mad at them or feel hurt by their jokes. It was just that he didn’t really wanted to be in the center of attention. Especially not when he sat next to this charming man, who caused a labyrinth, which made every single thought get lost on the way out, to arise in his brain._  
 _“It’s okay”, the words finally passed Jehan’s lips and he shrugged, smiling. “Like I told you, you’re not the first person to whom that happens.”_  
 _Another laughter escaped Courfeyrac’s throat before he turned away from the poet to talk to a blond incredibly handsome man, who had just approached him with a serious look on his face._


End file.
